


IBDC: Grimm

by moonstalker24



Series: The Itty Bitty Ditty Committee [4]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble Collection, Kidnapping, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Royals, Shuffle Challenge, Slime, Woge, because really, falling in holes, gift baskets, hand holding, have you met nicks mom, lots and lots of gift baskets, quiet romance, we're ignoring canon mostly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstalker24/pseuds/moonstalker24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuffle Challenge Drabble Collection consisting mostly of Nickroe and Renardht.</p><p>5. That's What Friends Are For - The Jungle Book (renhardt, with friends like these)<br/>6. Weak In the Knees - Serena Ryder (renhardt, hand holding)<br/>7. I Choose You - Sara Bareilles (nickroe, holes)<br/>8. Monster - Imagine Dragons (renhardt, faces)<br/>9. House of the Dying Sun - Brother Dege (5+1, covered in slime)<br/>10. Jealous - Labrinth (renhardt, as seen by juliet)<br/>11. Growing Up - Run River North (renhardt, au s3)</p><p>
  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZMxJOD1uYNas9vU8gvIEU2bgQBnUqlmV">playlist for the Grimm set on youtube.</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When You Sleep (renhardt, pining)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Sean, pining after each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When You Sleep - Mary Lambert
> 
> Okay, so here's the deal. This is my first real foray into the world of Grimm. I can tell you straight up this will mostly be AU. I'm going to lean toward ignoring the ending of Season 4, because I kind of hate how it ended, and Adalind having Nick's baby? Yeah, not awesome in my book, so I tend to ignore it. If canon is mentioned, assume it's somewhere in the vicinity of seasons 1-3. I haven't watched any of 5 yet, just a heads up on that.

**When You Sleep**

(renhardt, pining, [when you sleep - mary lambert](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tac81bRvfC4))

 

_“I could make you happy_

_I could make you love me_

_I could disappear completely_

_I could be your love song_

_I could be long gone_

_I could be a ghost in your eardrum_

_Be with me when you sleep_

_Be with me…”_

 

It’s late, or early, depending on how you choose to look at it. Nick has been running on too little sleep, and too much coffee for too many days. He closes the front door behind him with a sigh, leaning heavily against it for a minute, just breathing.

“Nick, is that you?”

Nick flinches surprised, and then he remembers. Captain Sean Renard is in his house. His Captain, who had been beaten to hell because of those damn coins. His Captain, who Nick had insisted come stay with him while he recovered from being stabbed out of some form of guilt.

Sean appears in the foyer. His gaze travels the length of Nick’s body, taking in the exhausted posture and weary expression. He’s wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and Nick sort of wants to giggle because his Captain’s feet are bare.

“You know,” Sean says softly, “You need to take care of yourself just as much as you do everyone else.”

Nick starts to shrug, and then decides that it’s too much work about halfway through. He gives Sean a sort of semi-amused self-depreciating huff of laughter. He’s been too damn busy to worry about things like sleep or food. Hell, he hasn’t showered in two days and feels disgusting.

Sean reaches out, large hand hovering over Nick’s bicep uncertainly. Nick wishes that Sean would just _touch_ him. Anything but just watch him like he does.

“Come on,” Sean says, “I made soup.”

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Nick protests weakly, but follows his Captain into the kitchen anyway.

“It wasn’t hard work,” Sean says, voice level and droll. Nick allows him to guide him into a chair. Inhales the steam wafting from the bowl as it’s set down in front of him. It’s a creamy tomato basil soup that smells divine.

He eats slowly, savors each bite, basks in the fact that Sean is sitting next to him in companionable silence. Their relationship has changed a lot since Nick had found out that Sean knew about his being a Grimm. Since Nick had found out about his Captain being a zauberbiest. In good ways, in bad ways, in no ways.

“Thanks for this,” Nick tells the taller man after he’s finished. It earns him a gentle smile. Sean takes Nick’s bowl and goes into the kitchen to rinse it out and place it in the dishwasher.

Nick follows. It’s time, he decides, to break through the silent wall between them. The longing he feels deep inside himself isn’t going away, and he needs to know either way what this could be. It could be nothing at all. It could be everything he’s ever wanted and more.

He steps up behind the man at the sink and wraps his arms silently around his waist. Presses his forehead into the space between Sean’s shoulder blades. Sean pauses in his movements, but doesn’t pull away. The Grimm closes his eyes and breathes in the deep woody scent clinging to the zauberbiest.

“Nick,” Sean’s voice says softly into the silence.

“Please,” Nick says, allowing Sean to turn around, but not releasing him, “tell me there’s nothing here and I’ll stop.”

There’s a long, heavy pause, then Sean speaks, “I… I can’t do that, Nick.”

Nick looks up, eyes intent, “Do you want to?”

“No,” Sean breathes, reaching up to cradle Nick’s jaw in one hand. He can feel warm breath across his lips for a moment, and then they’re kissing.

They stand there in the kitchen for a few minutes, trading soft kisses, reluctant to break the comfortable bubble now surrounding them. Eventually though, they break apart. Sean puts the bowl in the dishwasher, then let’s Nick take his hand and lead him toward the stairs.

They shut off the lights as they go, and when they reach the top of the stairs, they don’t part ways and turn into different bedrooms. Nick tugs Sean into his own room, and Sean lets him.


	2. Waiting Here (nickroe, where home is)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Nick isn't sure when Monroe's house started feeling more like home than his own._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waiting Here - Jake Isaac
> 
> Okay, so seeing as it's December, updates are going to be short and probably far between. This set makes the fourth one in IBDC, and I still need to get back into the groove with that one. I hope you like this one.

**Waiting Here**

(nickroe, where home is, [waiting here - jake isaac](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RYbWB0iZW7Q))

 

_“These arms were meant for you_

_And these shoulders meant to carry you_

_When you call my name, come running_

_Til then I’ll be waiting, I’ll be waiting…”_

 

Nick isn’t sure when Monroe’s house started feeling more like home than his own. Juliet’s lost memory, all the attacks. The big, beautiful house they had picked out together no longer feels like it’s theirs anymore. It’s just the place where he stores his things. A place he showers, does his laundry.

It’s not like he and Juliet can even look each other in the eyes these days.

But Monroe’s? Monroe’s house, with the stained glass wolf set into the front door, and all of its clocks all ticking in time with each other. That’s home. It’s safe, and it’s warm. When he steps inside the Blutbad’s house he can feel the tension leak out if him. Dinner with Monroe isn’t fraught with what he can’t talk about, what he shouldn’t say.

Monroe knows him better than he thinks anyone ever has.

_(1-405) Hey, bring bread home._

It’s a request that Monroe has made a dozen or more times. Asking Nick to stop at the market to pick up something on his way over to make an already excellent meal perfect. Nick thinks about it, but he can’t remember Monroe ever calling it ‘home’ before. He likes it.

_(1-406) Will do._

So, once he and Hank have done all they can chasing this week’s wesen bad guy, Nick stops at the little market he knows Monroe prefers. It’s locally owned and most of the product they sell is local too. It’s wesen friendly, and the Eisbiber couple that own the place are part of Bud’s Lodge. Annie sells him their last loaf of italian bread with a smile and tells him to say hello to Monroe for them.

He doesn’t even think about it when he tells her he will. Doesn’t consider it weird that the local wesen community consider their local Grimm and Wieder Blutbad a unit.

“Hey, I’m home!” Nick calls into the house, closing the door behind himself. He hangs his coat on the rack next to Monroe’s, dumps his keys and wallet in the little dish under the big cuckoo clock in the entryway, and kicks off his boots.

“In the kitchen!” Monroe calls back, “Did you get the bread?”

“Yeah,” Nick wanders into the kitchen. He hands over the expected loaf, smiling in return as Monroe grins at him. “Annie says hello.”

“Well, hi back,” Monroe says, then chuckles to himself.

It’s while Nick is rooting around in the fridge for one of the beers he knows Monroe buys just for him that it strikes him. His head emerges from the unit and he turns to look at Monroe with wide eyes and a confused frown. “When did I move in with you?” he asks.

Monroe turns laughing eyes on him, “A while ago, dude. I’m just waiting for the rest of your stuff to catch up with you.”

“Okay,” Nick says slowly. He closes the fridge, pops the caps off the two beers he got out, and hands the one with the unpronounceable german label to Monroe. “When did we become a we?”

“About the same time you moved in. Maybe a little before.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nick demands.

Monroe snorts, “You’re amusing when you’re figuring things out. Also, I made a bet with Bud about when you’d figure it out.”

Nick wrinkles his eyebrows, takes a long pull from his beer, and then says: “We’re an old married couple in Wesen terms, aren’t we?”

“Eh,” Monroe cocks his head in that way he does when he’s trying to explain something in human terms, “Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Nick says faintly. He’s thinking very hard, so Monroe leaves him to it, and turns back to the spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. He sprinkles in some torn up basil leaves and stirs it. He turns, cupping a hand under the spoon and holds it out. Nick obligingly tries it and grins at Monroe. The gray-blue of his eyes and the trust in his expression remind the Blutbad why he’s being so patient.

“I’m sorry,” Nick says finally, looking sheepish. “I’m a little slow on the uptake when it comes to this stuff.”

“You can make it up to me by paying me in kisses,” Monroe tells him, making him laugh.

“Yeah, okay,” Nick says, and leans forward to issue his first payment. Monroe hums in pleasure, so Nick kisses him again.

“That’s nice,” Monroe says with a soft smile. “We’ll revisit this after dinner. Slice the bread, please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Nick agrees, and turns to do just that.

He’ll have to deal with everything tomorrow. Hell, he’s relieved that he can tell Juliet what she’s been wanting to hear for weeks. That he’s moving out, that he’s ready to let her live her life. He still wants to be friends, but he’s not sure that’s possible. Juliet, he knows, will be relieved that he’s given up. She’ll be glad to see that he’s happy, she’s just that kind of person.

Monroe breaks him out of his thoughts, nudging him away from the island to go set the table. He goes, watching his Blutbad spread garlic butter and herbs on the slices of bread he’d cut. They go on a sheet pan and into the oven. Monroe drains the noodles, and then there’s a dish of beautiful spaghetti ready to be set on the table.

Nick walks up behind Monroe and wraps his arms around him, pressing his forehead into the space between his shoulder blades. Monroe pauses, “You okay?”

Nick smiles, and since Monroe can’t see it, says: “Yeah, I really, really am.”


	3. Unsteady (nickroe, a measure of peace)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _His mother is alive and he can't feel anything other than numb._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unsteady - X Ambassadors
> 
> This one is super short, but then the challenge isn't the kind where length matters. It's the kind where writing with the music in mind is more important.

**Unsteady**

(nickroe, a measure of peace, [unsteady - x ambassadors](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0lw3qylVfY))

 

_“But if you love me, don’t let go_

_Whoa, if you love me, don’t let go_

_Hold, hold on, hold onto me_

_‘Cause I’m a little unsteady_

_A little unsteady…”_

 

His mother is alive and he can’t feel anything other than numb. His mother is alive and she left him, willingly, voluntarily. Hell, it had been her idea. He spent his teenaged years with Aunt Marie because his mother couldn’t be bothered to try to figure out a way to keep their family together. She sacrificed his father’s life, and the life of her friend to keep living. To run away from him.

“I think I hate her,” Nick mumbles into the thick cardigan that Monroe is wearing.

The Blutbad huffs, silent chuckles that shake his frame and hold no mirth at all. His eyes are fierce and red, his grip on the Grimm in his arms absolute. “Yeah, well, I can see why,” Monroe tells the dark head of hair buried in his front.

They’ve been sitting like this for an hour now, maybe more. Nick had left his house in a daze, leaving his mother with Juliette and not looking back. Monroe had found him on his doorstep, and had known what was needed. The moment the mismatched pair had made it to the couch, Nick had tipped himself into the taller man, silent and numb.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive her.”

“You know what’s awesome?” Monroe asks, false brightness coloring his tone; “You don’t have too.”

“I don’t?”

“She left you. She lost the right to your forgiveness a long time ago, dude.”

Nick hums, then shifts around on the couch until he’s curled up in Monroe’s embrace with his back to the rest of the world. Monroe marvels a bit at the trust the Grimm shows in him. They sit silently for a while longer.

“Can I stay?”

“For as long as you want.”

“Thanks.”

Monroe just tightens his grip. There’s no need to thank him. He had been lonely before Nick, but he hadn’t known just how lonely. Now he’s got this Grimm that won’t leave him alone. This guy that turns to him for help and comfort and friendship. Nick is everything Monroe hadn’t known he needed or wanted.

“No need,” Monroe says softly.

There will be time to tell Nick how he feels. Later.


	4. Gun In My Hand (nickroe, possessiveness)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monroe is kidnapped, but he knows that his Grimm will save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gun In My Hand - Dorothy
> 
> Sooo... the first half of this came super easy. The second half - not so much. It's kind of been sitting in my docs for several weeks gathering dust as I stared at it uncomprehendingly. The second half just didn't want to be written, but I did it, and I feel better now.

**Gun In My Hand**

(nickroe, possessiveness,  [ gun in my hand - dorothy ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X9TpCYy2HU) )

 

_ “Was it for redemption? _

_ Was it for revenge? _

_ Was it for the bottle? _

_ Was it for the ledge? _

_ Was it for the thrill of pushing my hope to the edge? _

_ Why did love, why did love put a gun in my hand?” _

 

Monroe is possessive of anything (anyone) that he considers his. He’s a Blutbad, possessive is part and parcel of being what he is. Possessive and territorial. Don’t let the mild-mannered, clock making persona fool you.

He’s not exactly sure just when he started to consider Nick Burkhardt, Grimm extraordinaire, his, but he does. He is highly possessive of the Grimm he calls his; and everyone in the Wesen community of Portland knows it. Hell, there’s a Lodge full of Eisbiber that insist on considering Monroe and Nick synonymous with each other.

While Monroe has been willing to admit how he feels about Nick to himself for some time now, he hadn’t realized that that feeling of possessiveness went two ways. That the care and need, the want is returned.

He stands corrected.

He’s been chained up in this filthy cellar or a couple of days now. Kidnapped by a bunch of Coytl for some ritual or other. An old world rite that is both antiquated and barbaric. Most don’t stand with the old ways anymore, but the few who do are both rare and nasty to deal with.

Goody for Monroe that he just so happens to fit the specifications for this particular rite, despite the fact that he’s a Blutbad. It had never been indicated that being Weider was a walk in the park. Now he knows that that park includes the possibility of being eaten by old school Coytl.

You learn something new every day.

“You know what?!” Monroe yells after being kicked in the ribs hard enough to knock him from his knees onto his side. “I hope you’ve got a will, because you’re not going to survive this.”

It’s not his fault they don’t heed his warning. He knows Nick will find him.

*

The door to the warehouse gets blasted off its hinges and lands on the ground with an almighty crash that has everyone in the place starting in surprise and lunging for weapons. Several of them woge. Monroe looks up from his place behind the bars of the steel cage they’ve shoved him and several other people into, eyes red.

There’s a funny little moment of silence where everything has stopped (like it came right out of the movies) and then the Grimm in the doorway raises the crossbow in his hand and fires. Chaos follows.

There’s screaming and loud noises. Several of the lights get shot out, it’s all very dramatic. Especially when Bud appears, looking nervous like always, with the keys to the cages rattling in his hands. He whimpers with fright when Monroe tells him to hurry it up with a menacing growl, but manages to unlock the cell and dodge out of the way.

Monroe will apologize for his behavior later, right now he charges toward the fight to help Nick. Who… doesn’t actually need help this time around. Monroe reaches him just as the last of the Coytl hits the ground, thoroughly unconscious. Nick is breathing hard, glaring and very, very scary. Scary enough that it makes the raging Blutbad pause with instinctual fear for a moment.

“Nick?”

Nick looks up, his eyes the black void of death that scares the absolute shit out of most Wesen. Monroe waits the few seconds it takes for the Grimm’s eyes to return to the clear gray blue they usually are before he steps forward. They reach for each other at the same time.

“Are you okay?” Nick asks after a few minutes of physically reassuring himself that the clockmaker hasn’t been sacrificed.

“Me?” Monroe asks with a disbelieving little laugh, “I’m fine! I knew you’d come get me. What about you? Are you okay?”

Nick makes a noise that resembles a growl enough for the wolf in Monroe to perk up and take notice. It’s menacing and promises violence. “I will be,” Nick promises him.

“Oh, good,” Monroe says brightly. “Let’s go home.”

He’s gracious enough to not say anything at all about Nick’s need to touch him constantly over the next week. He knows he’d need the same reassurance if it had been Nick that was taken.

Well, he gives him a week, and  _ then  _ he complains about it. Loudly.


	5. That's What Friends Are For (renhardt, with friends like these)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The many times Nick is gifted with baskets from Bud's Lodge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's What Friends Are For - The Jungle Book
> 
> I have had this song stuck in my head off and on for the past two weeks. So I took it as a sign that I needed to watch The Jungle Book. So I did. And then I wrote this.

**That’s What Friends Are For**

(renhardt, with friends like these, [that’s what friends are for - the jungle book ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTrB45tfFDQ))

 

_“And when you’re lost, in dire need_

_Who’s at your side, at lightning speed?_

_We’re friends to every creature comin’ down the pike_

_In fact we never met an animal we didn’t like_

_Didn’t like…”_

 

The first time Bud’s Lodge fills Nick’s house with a variety of baked, canned and handmade goods, it’s out of fear. He’s exasperated and not a little weirded out. They’re offerings from the Eisbiber to try to appease the big bad Grimm. Since he never had any intention of killing any of them, the gesture is seen as mostly annoying.

He has to admit that the quilts were nice, though.

The second time that Bud’s Lodge fills Nick’s house with a variety of baked, canned and handmade goods, it’s out of sympathy. Juliet has just left him to go home back east; seeing no point in staying if she can’t remember him. He resents the gesture because he doesn’t want their pity. Especially once he figures out that it’s not because Juliet can’t remember, it’s that she doesn’t _want_ to.

He keeps the blankets, throws the rest out, and puts the house up for sale.

The third time Bud’s Lodge fills Nick’s house with a variety of baked, canned and handmade goods, he can’t figure out why. Also, it’s not his house, and trying to explain to Hank why a bunch of Eisbiber ply him with food and handicrafts on a semi-regular basis just gets him laughed at. Hank lines jars of jellies and jams up in his cupboard and eats a lot of homemade bread. All while telling Nick that if this is a regular thing, his partner needs to get his own place.

So, Nick gets his own place.

Bud becomes a friend. As timid as he is, he’s also fiercely loyal and willing to help out wherever he can. In spite of his fear, he’s steadfast and always willing to explain aspects of Wesen culture to Nick. The Lodge seems to take this friendship as tacit permission to consider the Grimm the Lodge Guardian.

After that, he finds a basket on his doorstep no less than once a week. He stops buys bread at the store.

Rosalie finds the fact that Nick is practically worshipped by a lodge full of beavers hilarious when she finds out. She doesn’t stop giggling in his presence for days afterward. When he complains about it, she explains that she can’t help it. It’s one of the most ridiculous, yet adorable things she’s ever heard of.

Phoebe, Bud’s wife (and all around gentle soul), nearly bites the Fuchsbau’s head off defensively when she drops by the shop to pick up a prescription for an ailing neighbor. Luckily for both women, Monroe is there to step in. Unluckily for both women, Monroe found the whole thing entertaining. It becomes one of the stories he pulls out at parties.

That doesn’t stop Monroe from telling Bud that he understands why he says his wife can be scary the next time he sees him.

When Nick tells Hank all about it, Hank generously reminds him that out of all of them, Hank and Wu are the normal ones.

“We’re doomed,” Wu says sardonically before stepping off the elevator. “I’m never riding in an elevator with you two again.”

“Speaking of weirdos,” Hank says, following Nick toward their desks. “When are you going to tell the Captain how you feel about him?”

Nick nearly drops his coffee in surprise, and stares at Hank incredulously, “Excuse me?”

Hank rolls his eyes, “I’m a detective. I detect. And I have detected you making moon eyes at a certain police captain. What you don’t know is that I’ve also detected him making moon eyes at you.”

“I - I do not make moon eyes!”

“Yes, you do,” Hank tells him cheerfully. “Like a five year old, it’s sickening. You should tell him how you feel, then you can be weirdos in love instead of just weirdos.”

“Hank -”

“He’s right behind you, by the way.”

Nick closes his eyes, then sighs and turns in his chair. Sean Renard is standing behind him, one eyebrow raised at Hank. “Weirdos in love?” he asks, voice mild.

Hank is unapologetic, “Yep.”

Sean and Nick gaze at each other for a long moment, then Sean says: “If you inform the Lodge that our very dear friend Hank has been feeling under the weather, I’ll pay for dinner.”

“Deal,” Nick says, grinning.

“No!” Hank yelps. “Don’t sick the Eisbiber wives on me!”

Nick just smirks and pulls out his phone. When it gets picked up he says, brightly: “Hi, Phoebe! It’s Nick, listen, I need a favor.”

Hank groans and lets his head thump to the top of his desk. If this is what he gets, he’s never playing matchmaker ever again. “I hate you,” he informs his partner as soon as he’s hung up the phone.

Nick smirks, “Welcome to gift basket hell.”


	6. Weak In The Knees (renhardt, hand holding)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Nick and Sean hold hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weak In The Knees - Serena Ryder
> 
> [shadowolfhunter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowolfhunter/pseuds/shadowolfhunter) was kind enough to remind me about how sometimes, David and Sasha randomly hold hands, I couldn't not after that. This is the result.

**Weak In The Knees**

(renhardt, holding hands, [ weak in the knees - serena ryder ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KC0DEgqDg7g))

 

_“Would you mind if I walked over and I kissed your face_

_In front of all your friends?_

_Would you mind if I got drunk and said_

_I wanna take you home to bed?_

_Oh, would you change your mind?..”_

 

He isn’t sure when it starts exactly. Isn’t sure who started it or why. He just knows that he’s come to rely on it. It’s comforting. In the moments when it happens, he knows he’s not alone. A presence appears at his elbow. Tall and solid. Nick can feel some of the tension leave his shoulders. He reaches out, slides his fingers between the other man’s, brings their palms together and holds on.

Sean Renard squeezes his hand gently in acknowledgement. Nick can’t help the quirk of his lips into a faint smile. He squeezes briefly back. Is gifted with the upturn of the corner of Sean’s mouth out of the corner of his eye.

They never look at each other when they do this. That isn’t the point of the exercise. The feeling it generates, the feeling of not being alone, that’s the point. The entire point. It’s why the hand holding has continued for nearly a year now.

Both of them need it; and both of them know it.

They’ve been doing this long enough that no one they know thinks it’s strange. Hell, half the force thinks they’re in a relationship. No one ever says anything, because they’ve all realized by now that neither of the men involved would ever let it interfere with the job. Most of them have money on when the wedding will be.

After a few minutes, when Nick shows no sign of letting go, Sean tugs him into the mouth of an alleyway just beyond the police tape. Flashing blue and red lights reflect off the wet pavement. The cloudy sky above is tinged orange from the abundance of city lights. Sean presses Nick gently into the brick of the wall that is now behind him, boxing the smaller man in with his arms.

Nick takes a deep breath, fills his lungs with rain, rotting garbage and Sean’s cologne. He slips the forefinger of each hand through a belt loop, and tugs the other man a little closer. It creates a solid barrier between himself and the world.

Sean goes from leaning on his hands, to leaning on his forearms. Lets the Grimm close his eyes and breathe. Gives him what little time he can. Takes the same comfort in return.

Nick finally opens his eyes. Instead of their normal pale blue, they’re stormy gray. Sean can see the Grimm starting to show in them. He can feel his own power rising up inside him to meet it. Knows his own eyes are showing flecks of Zauberbiest gold.

Nick’s hands brush against Sean’s sides as they rise impulsively. He cradles the bigger man’s jaw in his hands for a second, then uses that grip to pull him down. Presses their lips together gently.

The Royal has never let himself expect this from Nick before. He’s hoped for it though. He responds immediately, kissing back and wrapping one arm around the Grimm’s waist to pull them flush together.

The kiss is soft, brief. A shade of peace and love in an otherwise dark situation. When they pull apart, Nick’s eyes have cleared. He looks steadier, a little less angry and a lot more focused. Ready to handle the situation.

“Good?” Sean asks.

Nick knows his Captain isn’t asking about the quality of the kiss. He nods once, “I’m good.”

Sean believes him. He has no reason to doubt him. Nick is one of the best detectives under his command, and a Grimm to boot. Sean knows he will never doubt him.

They head out of the alley, parting ways once they reach the police tape. Nick ducks under the yellow stripe, heading for where he can see Hank crouched by the victim. Sean heads for the little huddle of reporters trying to get pictures while they demand answers.

“You okay?” Hank asks as soon as Nick approaches. They’re both wound tight as tops, and Hanks hadn’t missed the hand holding.

“Yeah,” Nick tells him, crouching down to examine the ground around the body with his flashlight. “I’ll feel better when we catch this guy, though.”

“You and me, both,” Hank says. “You and me, both.”

*

Hank collapses into his desk chair with a groan that speaks of the aches and pains that accompany an extremely long day. As soon as he’s seated, he sighs in satisfaction because his feet are no longer holding up his weight. A glance over at Nick shows that his partner is staring at his computer screen with blank exhaustion.

“You know what?” Hank decides, “Let’s fill out our reports tomorrow. I’m beat. I need beer and sleep.”

Nick looks over at him, both eyebrows raised, “Yeah, okay.”

Hank grins, then stretches his arms over his head before getting up. He pats Nick on the shoulder companionably, “Don’t go home, go see the Captain.”

“Hank.”

“You’ll get more rest if you go,” Hanks says soberly. “You know I’m right.”

They both know he’s right. Nick just stands up, retrieves his coat, and walks with Hank toward the elevator. They ride it silently to the parking level. The silence comfortable and a little sleepy.

“Enjoy your beer,” Nick says when they part ways to go to their cars.

“Enjoy the Captain,” Hank leers back, and laughs.

*

Sean is brushing his teeth when the doorbell rings. He spits out a mouthful of foam, rinses his toothbrush, and heads down the stairs. When he opens the door, he is both surprised and not surprised to find Nick standing there.

“Hey,” the Grimm says softly.

Sean doesn’t respond, he just reaches for him. Nick walks willingly directly into his arms.


	7. I Choose You (nickroe, falling in holes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Monroe fall down a hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Choose You - Sara Bareilles
> 
> So... I had the opportunity to make an Alice in Wonderland, or a Timmy in the Well/Lassie joke, and I didn't. I'm ashamed, but I think this one turned out kinda adorable, so I'm giving myself a pass.

**I Choose You**

(nickroe, holes,  [ i choose you - sara bareilles ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooiLP_zqnFs) )

 

_ “I am not scared of the elements _

_ I am under-prepared, but I am willing _

_ And even better _

_ I get to be the other half of you…” _

 

“Well, this is perfect.”

Nick flounders for a second, but manages to get his feet under him. He takes a second to peel an earthworm off the side of his neck before he asks: “Can you reach the top?”

“No,” Monroe says flatly. The expression on his face tells Nick that Monroe is thinking he’s stupid again.

A look around tells him all he needs to know. They’re in a muddy pit, about twenty feet deep and six feet around. They have an overabundance of worms, and enough mud to make trying to climb out a bad idea. The Skalengek they were chasing is probably long gone by now.

“What’s that sound?” Monroe asks suspiciously. Nick cocks his head to the side to listen. The sound is unmistakable. It’s the sound of water droplets hitting leaves. “Great,” Monroe mutters, “just great.” and then it starts to pour.

The thing, Nick decides fifteen minutes later, is that with the ground already waterlogged, more water really has nowhere to go. They were already splashing around in a good inch of standing water, the rain is only increasing that amount.

“If this keeps up, we could just… float to the top.”

Nick gives Monroe an incredulous look, “You’re assuming it will take Hank that long to realize we’re not back yet.”

“Didn’t he have a date?’ monroe asks.

“Good point,” Nick muses.”Well, I’m sure he’ll notice when I don’t show up for work in the morning.”

“What, so you expect me to keep you from dying of hypothermia overnight?” Monroe’s voice may be a little mean, but his eyes are mischievous.

“”Yes,” says Nick.

“Are you kidding? You’re muddier than I am!”

That’s because Nick fell in the hole first and cushioned Monroe’s fall. He decides not to remind the Blutbad of this fact, because he knows Monroe. Monroe will mock him for falling in the hole in the first place. Never mind that he too, fell in the hole.

Instead, Nick reaches toward Monroe with muddy hands; one of which is still holding a worm. “Aww, c’mon!” he says in a wheedling tone. “Don’t be like that, baby!”

Monroe dodges away from the hand with the worm in it, so Nick throws it at him. He yelps and brushes it off his jacket. He flails right into Nick’s waiting arms. Nick gets a good grip on the wolf, and eventually they’re both standing there laughing in each other’s arms.

“Some big, bad wolf you are,” Nick murmurs into the crook of the taller man’s neck.

“Says the Grimm that’s all cuddly like a bunny,” Monroe murmurs back, eyes glowing as he pulls said Grimm a little closer.

“Bunny?” Nick asks, “You wouldn’t eat me, would you?”

“Oh, yes I would,” Monroe says with a grin. “The difference between you and a bunny is that I’d miss you afterward.”

Nick presses the cold tip of his nose against the skin just under the collar of Monroe’s shirt in retaliation, making the Blutbad flinch. He gets his hands under Monroe’s jacket and high up on his back, snuggling closer.

“Oh, no,” Monroe scolds, rearing back a little. “You are  _ not  _ settling in for the night!”

Oh, yes, he is, Nick thinks. They can’t get out of this hole on their own, it’s raining, and he can already feel the cold creeping in. “You wouldn’t make me freeze, would you?” he pouts.

“You,” Monroe’s got his number, “are taking advantage of this situation.”

“You bet your ass I am,” Nick replies, completely unashamed of this fact.

Monroe blinks up at the bits of trees and cloudy sky that he can see overhead. He wonders how anyone could find this particular Grimm frightening past first glance. He’s very nice to look at, and completely ridiculous. He sighs and wraps his arms tighter around the dark haired man; who makes a happy, content noise in the back of his throat.

Like a cat.

Nick Burkhardt is a ridiculous human being, and he’s Monroe’s. Monroe grins and hides it in the other man’s hair.

Nick takes the victory, superficial though it is. To be perfectly honest, Nick will take any excuse to snuggle with his Blutbad. Sure, they fell down a giant hole while chasing a Skalengek through the woods… and said hole is way too big and uniform to be natural, but that’s no excuse not to take advantage of the situation.

Hank knows where they are, and will come find them. Okay, so he’ll have to endure the ribbing that falling in a hole will generate, but his ego can take it. Hank has been in equally idiotic situations before.

He settles into Monroe’s arms, ready to wait it out. At least, if he had to fall down a hole, he did it with the right person.

Monroe shakes his head in amusement, and tightens his grip.


	8. Monster (renhardt, faces)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick sees Sean woge for the first time. Meaningful conversation ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monster - Imagine Dragons
> 
> I... don't actually have anything to say. Just read the thing.

**Monster**

(renhardt, faces,  [ monster - imagine dragons ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhSA9H9Iaqw) )

 

_ “If I told you what I was, _

_ Would you turn your back on me? _

_ And if I seem dangerous, _

_ Would you be scared? _

_ I get the feeling just because _

_ Everything I touch isn’t dark enough _

_ That this problem lies in me…” _

 

He can feel his heart pumping in his chest. Hear his blood rushing in his ears. His entire body is buzzing with adrenaline and dread. A strange sense of detachment fills him. He’s in full woge and has just torn apart a trio of Hundjager…

And Nick saw the whole thing.

Sean closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. There are things about being a Zauberbiest that he loves; the sight of his woge isn’t one of them. He knows that if he can just get his breathing under control his woge will fade. Perhaps then he’ll be able to face the Grimm at his back.

A hand comes down on his shoulder, but he refuses to flinch; and he refuses to turn around. Instead, Nick moves around Sean until they’re face to face. Sean feels his breath catch in his lungs. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes.

For his part, Nick examines the downturned features of the man in front of him. Sure, the Zauberbiest isn’t pretty, but it’s also not exactly high on his list of things that gross him out. He’s certainly seen worse. The last few years have shown Nick that it’s not what’s on the surface that counts. Or what’s under it, as the case may be.

Nick raises one hand and sets it against Sean’s cheek. The pulsating of the woge under his hand feels a little strange, but there’s no slime, so he counts it as a win.

“Hey, look at me,” he says gently when Sean won’t meet his eyes.

Sean’s usually intelligent green eyes flash up to meet his. Now they are Zauberbiest gold and filled with a breathtaking amount of rage. Those eyes flicker away from the darkness of the Grimm’s eyes after a minute, taking in his features instead.

“You think I care?” Nick demands, ignoring the visceral reaction the wesen has to looking a Grimm in the eyes. “If I remember correctly, I walked into this thing knowing exactly what you are. What I was getting in the deal. You think looking at you like this is gonna scare me off?”

Sean is starting to calm. His heartbeat slows, taking the woge with it. The pure rage in his eyes dims to embers. His nostrils flare as he takes in a deep breath. There’s blood on the air, and he recognizes the acrid scent of garbage. Close by is Nick’s unique scent. There is no hint of fear in it.

Sean tips forward, nose first into the crook of Nick’s neck. The angle is awkward considering their height difference, and a muscle in Sean’s back immediately protests the position, but he doesn’t move.

He has always had a hard time with how he looks when woged. What Hexenbiester lack in looks, they make up for in anger and power. His mother, for example, was chock full of ambitious rage. She had had the power to back it up, too. No one crossed Elizabeth Lascelles and lived to tell about it - unless she wanted you to survive, that is.

His mother had loved him. She taught him everything she could. She taught him to survive. To be proud of who and what he was no matter what. She could not, however, teach him what being a Royal really meant.

He’d had to figure that out on his own.

And he had. For him it had meant getting as far from the other Royals as he could. It meant using his power and political acumen to protect as many as he could. Portland was his protectorate.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters into the man holding him.

“For what?” Nick asks. “Saving my life? Because I’m not.”

Sean huffs and straightens up enough to look down at Nick. They both look as human as they ever do, but Sean can feel the beast hovering under the surface, and he can see the Grimm under Nick’s skin as well.

“I don’t get it,” Nick continues. “I know who you are, Sean. What’s to be sorry for? Being so damn tall? Or, ooh, hey, can you be sorry for never doing the dishes?”

Sean snorts, amused despite himself. “Never change, Nicholas,” he tells him. “Never change.”

Nick’s eyebrows go up, “Full name, I’m in for it now.”

“Be serious,” Sean says. “Those Hundjager were after me, you just got caught in the crossfire.”

“Hey! They could have just as easily been after me. You never can tell with Hundjager.”

“The Royals -”

“Are basically my in-laws,” Nick cuts him off. “We can’t all be perfect.”

Nick grabs the sleeve of his coat and tugs him towards the warehouse entrance. Sean rolls his eyes and follows. He knows they’ll have to deal with the fallout that three dead men will generate, but that will be later.

“Besides,” Nick says as they walk toward Sean’s SUV, “Have you  _ met  _ my mother?”

“Okay, I see your point.”

“Good,” Nick says. They get into the SUV, and Nick continues, “Besides, it’s nice to know you can keep up with me… All of me.”

Keep up with the Grimm as well as the detective.

“Is that why you’re with me?” Sean wonders teasingly, already knowing what Nick is going to say.

“You’re also very good in bed. And you’re nice to look at.”

There it is. Sean rolls his eyes, amused, but says nothing.

Neither man mentions that apparently, even after all this time, Sean had been afraid that Nick would leave if he ever saw his woge. It’s a non-issue now. Nick has seen it, he’s touched it, and his reaction was to reassure. He didn’t run from him, he’d embraced him. Sean can feel an invisible weight lift off his shoulders.

They’re going to be fine.


	9. House of the Dying Sun (5+1 covered in slime)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five times the gang gets covered in slime, plus one when they don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> House of the Dying Sun - Brother Dege
> 
> Don't ask me what the song has to do with this. I have no idea. I listened to it, went post-apocalyptic world!... and then I wrote this nonsense. My brain is strange place.

**House of the Dying Sun**

(grimm, 5+1 covered in slime, [ house of the dying sun - brother dege ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XggglHRrV-I))

 

_“They say it’s written in blood._

_It’s been chipped in stone._

_Say the cities are going to sink beneath_

_Fire and flood._

_Well, some wear crowns of thorns._

_Others of golden wire._

_Some of them want to see you live._

_Others will help you die…”_

 

**1.**

There is grit under his fingernails. It’s embedded in the pads of his fingers so that he can see every whorl, indent and line. The skin of his forearms is littered with it, gathering in each pore and forming little pinpricks of dark against light. There are clean (ish) streaks in the dirt on his face, dried now that he’s stopped sweating.

He looks like he went camping for a week and forgot what water can do in the process.

“Wow, man, you reek!”

“I’m aware of that, thank you.”

And he _is_ . He so, so is. At this point, he’s beyond nose blind and into the territory of his own stench making him nauseous. He knows he’s wearing resting bitch face, and can’t bring himself to _care_ . At least he can take a sort of vindictive comfort in the fact that if he’s this bad, Hank and Wu are _worse_.

“What happened?” Monroe asks, stepping aside to let Nick in while simultaneously pinching his nose to block out the smell.

“We found the lair,” Nick says, toeing out of his boots so that he doesn’t track who knows what across the floor.

“Oh.”

There isn’t much else to say. Nick is here so the creature obviously didn’t kill him.

“Did you get it?” Monroe wonders, following Nick toward the stairs.

“Yeah, we got it.”

Even if they didn’t know what _it_ was, exactly. It had, at one point or another, been a Demonfurer. Not so much anymore. It had somehow mutated into Godzilla’s smaller, angrier, fire breathing cousin.

“I’ll get you a trash bag for your clothes,” Monroe decides. Which is… a good idea, actually.

“We should probably burn them,” Nick decides, then heaves a sigh. He really liked those boots.

**2.**

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Hank decides, an unpleasant look on his face. They all wait for a few seconds, and then Hank dashes over to the nearest bush, retching.

They’re all covered in green slime. Big goopy hunks of it, like pistachio pudding. Nick decides instantly that he wishes he hadn’t thought of that comparison. He’ll never look at pistachio pudding the same way again. It’s sad, because he loves that marshmallow salad thing, too.

“That could have been worse,” Wu decides.

“This is good?” Nick asks, shaking his arm so that big globs of… stuff slides off his arm and hits the ground with a series of noises that Nick wishes he hadn’t heard.

“Well,” says Wu, voice conversational, like they’re discussing the weather, “ _we_ weren’t the ones who exploded.”

True enough.

Hank returns, pale and looking worse for wear. “It got in my mouth,” he mutters.

All of them wince.

**3.**

“Do I want to know?” Rosalie asks as the guys file past her into the spice shop.

“No,” Monroe says as he passes her. He’s got tomato pulp in his hair and seeds dried to the side of the his neck.

“I take it it didn’t go well?” Rosalie states more than asks. She’s trying to smother her amusement, but she can’t help the little smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Wu stops walking to peer at his reflection in one of the glass display cases and starts peeling dried egg yolk off his face. “Not really,” he tells her in that tone he uses that is half sarcasm and half sardonic.

“It was a disaster,” Nick says, sitting down and pulling off a boot to investigate the squishy thing that had slid down inside it.

“Yeah,” Rosalie says, her nose wrinkling in disgust as Monroe starts emptying his pockets of rotten cabbage and bits of mushy turnip. “I can see that. Please put those in the trash.”

“I’m going to have to throw out these boots,” Nicks decides, voice exasperated and partially disbelieving. “Second pair this month.”

“No one said being a Grimm was gonna be easy,” Monroe tells him with a smirk.

Nick gives him a very flat look. “No? Really?” he asks, and throws the pulpy, half-rotten plum he’d fished out of his boot at Monroe. Monroe yelps and dodges, laughing.

“Children, please!” Rosalie exclaims, raising her hands and stepping between them. Her eyes are dancing with amusement. “Not in the shop.”

**4.**

“Are you guys okay?” Sean demands as soon as he gets close enough to ask.

“Sure,” Wu says, reaching out and pulling a chunk of charred… something, off of Nick’s shoulder. “Nick’s covered in barbequed wesen, Hank can’t hear anything and I’m the lucky owner of a shiny new, slobber covered uniform jacket.”

“What?!” Hank half yells. His ears are still ringing from the sound of the blast going off next to him. He’s got black smoke stains smudged on his face.

“It was a roast, Captain,” Nick says, face completely straight. “We didn’t appreciate being on the menu.”

Sean looks at his three officers, then glances around at the horribly amused cops all over the scene. They do look quite amusing. “And what’s the lab going to tell me you’re covered in?”

“I think it’s mostly pork,” Nick says, peeling off another strip of charred meat. It’s shiny on one side and Sean can smell that distinct barbeque sauce smell. “They were going to serve it alongside Grimm and Human.”

“Could be worse,” Wu says. He’s holding his jacket away from himself and scowling across the lot at the two drooling rottweilers that had tried to lick the evidence off him when they got out of the warehouse. “We could be the main course.”

“You’re so very up,” Nick tells him a shade too sarcastically. Wu grants him a winning smile.

“What?!” Hank yells.

**5.**

“What is that?” Roaslie asks as soon as she gets out of the car.

Monroe rounds the car from the driver’s side, an amused expression on his face, “It looks like boogers.”

“It’s _not_ boogers,” Nick says.

“No, it’s worse,” Hank says. He’s using a large, flat rock to scrape globs of it off his jacket. “It’s harpy poop.”

Monroe looks delighted, and Rosalie snickers.

“They were like very angry, very large seagulls,” Wu informs the pair. “They really didn’t like it when we told them they couldn’t nest here.”

“I’ll bet,” Monroe says. “Harpies are nasty pieces of work, man.”

“I hate all of you,” Hank decides. “I only get covered in unmentionable substances when I’m with you.”

Nick has sat down on a rock and pulled his boots off and is examining them mournfully, “I liked these ones. They were comfortable.”

“Maybe you should buy stock in the shoe company,” Monroe suggests. “Since you have to keep buying new ones.”

Nick looks up at him, pouting like he isn’t a grown Grimm that gives most wesen nightmares, “This is the third pair this month, Monroe.”

Monroe goes to pat Nick’s shoulder, but changes his mind, “I know, buddy.”

“Well,” Wu says, “At least it doesn’t smell like crap.”

“Seriously,” Hank reiterates, “I hate you all.”

**+1.**

There are several tipped over barrels and sludge oozing across the floor. There’s another barrel crumpled against the wall, it’s contents smattering the ceiling. There are a couple of hundjager groaning on the ground, and one is unconscious and covered head to toe in the sludge that collects on the bottom of empty septic tanks.

“Everybody okay?” Nick calls, stepping out from behind the wall he’d taken cover behind.

“Yep,” Wu calls, flopping over and telling the roof of the warehouse: “I’m good.”

“Yeah,” Hank wanders over, holstering his gun. He toes at the unconscious hundjager. “This dude is not riding with me.”

Nick is making quick work of the two that are still semi-conscious. “I say we call it in.”

“Works for me,” Hank says, and steps away.

“You know what?” Wu asks as he climbs to his feet and ambles over to the two detectives. He looks positively delighted. “We’re not covered in slime!”

Nick and Hank exchange a surprised look. They stare around at the scene.

“You know what?” Hank says, sidling toward the door. “I’m just gonna wait outside. Don’t wanna tempt fate.”

Nick and Wu look at each other and then yell simultaneously: “Not it!”


	10. Jealous (renhardt, as seen by juliet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After losing her memory, Juliet leaves. When she comes back, things aren't the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jealous - Labrinth
> 
> This song gives me feels. All the feels. And I I didn't want it to be sad, but it sort of is, because Juliet pov is lonely and sad, but Nick and Sean are together? Yeah.

**Jealous**

(renhardt, as seen by juliet,  [ jealous - labrinth ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=50VWOBi0VFs) )

 

_ “I’m jealous of the nights _

_ That I don’t spend with you _

_ I’m wondering who you lay next to _

_ Oh, I’m jealous of the nights _

_ I’m jealous of the love _

_ Love that wasn’t here _

_ Gone for someone else to share _

_ Oh, I’m jealous of the love…” _

 

By the time that Juliet remembers Nick, it’s far too late. It’s been a year since Nick left; and nearly two since she lost her memory. Nick had fought hard for them for six months. He’d done (or not done) everything Juliet had asked of him. He’d been stubborn, and had tried so hard to help her remember. To guide her back to the love they had shared.

He’d loved her with every fibre of his being, and she had known that. Yet, she had still pushed back against his fight with every ounce of her own stubborn will. Thrown every effort he gave back in his face. She was scared and wasn’t sure she wanted to remember.

Well, at first it had been because she was scared. She’d woken up in the hospital with no memory of this one specific person. They shared a house, the same friends, their lives were intertwined and she couldn’t remember it. She remembered everything; everything except for him.

Selective amnesia.

She supposes that whatever had happened to cause the memory loss could have been so much worse. The infection in the scratches on her arm, a blow she took to the head. Any number of other small things that added up over time could have caused it. The doctors had never been clear on it. She’d been frightened, and yet, strangely relieved.

Strangely relieved that she felt like she was starting new. The feeling came up to wrap around her. All she had to do was shake loose from Nick and she’d be able to start over and be happy… But, she’d been happy with Nick, hadn’t she? Wasn’t that he was fighting so damn hard? She’d seen how much he loved her in every expression and action.

She just… couldn’t love him back. Not then.

She’d been relieved when he’d finally admitted defeat. He’d packed a bag and left. She went to work feeling lighter, and when she came home the rest of his things had been gone. It was funny, how he’d just gone and done exactly what she’d wanted and she was still haunted by him. By the shadow of memories she no longer had.

Deciding to go back to Connecticut was easy after that. She got tired of the house being filled with shadows. She’d started updating her resume and looking for a practice in or around her old hometown before she’d realized she’d decided to leave. Her mother was ecstatic that she was coming home. She had originally thought that the sale of the house would help her buy a new place back east, but it didn’t.

It wasn’t her name on the title. The house belonged to Nick; and wasn’t that the kicker? He’d left just like she’d wanted him to, but he’d still done what he could and let her stay in a house she had no right to claim.

She’d been so mad.

Mad enough to have a friend drop off the keys instead of doing it herself.

So Juliet went home. She lived in a cute apartment, worked at a reputable animal clinic. She had dinner with her parents every week. Went for lunch with friends every Wednesday. She moved on with her life, and she did her very best to ignore the hole inside her.

Well, she managed to ignore it until her memories started slowly coming back.

Flashes of his face. Of conversations. A smile, a gesture. It felt like being haunted. She just wanted to forget again, because with all of those little things she was remembering, she was remembering how they made her feel.

She’d loved him, loved him to distraction.

And then, three months ago she had remembered finding the ring.

They’d been on their way to getting married, to really starting a family. It had nearly broken her, but she’d brought it on herself. Besides, the life she’d built post-Nick was pretty good. Sure she’d only been on a couple of dates, but otherwise she was pretty satisfied with the way things had turned out.

Well, that was what she told herself.

So why was she here? Because she had to know. She had to know if she’d really actually thrown away a once in a lifetime kind of love, or if she could get it back. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it back, but she needed to know. Love like that? Love like Nick had fought for? That was the kind of love fairytales were made of.

It made her chest ache.

So here she is. It’s still early, barely six in the evening. She’s sitting in a rented car outside Nick’s house. The house she’d basically fled. From what she can see through the front window, the furniture is different. Cleaner lines, a little more masculine, but still fitting in well with the wood of the floors and the paneling. The leather of the sofa is blue now, and so it the lush carpet on the floor.

She can only concentrate on the decor for so long before her eyes take in the man sitting on that sofa. He’s tall, and vaguely familiar. She thinks maybe Nick worked with him? She can’t be sure, a lot of the faces that she had associated with Nick are blurry in her memory now. From a purely female perspective she can appreciate how good looking he it.

Tall, broad shoulders, tan skin with middle eastern tones. A strong jaw. Any woman would consider herself lucky to have him. He’s sitting sideways on the couch, legs bent and feet tucked under Nick’s thigh on the other end of the sofa. He’s got a laptop in his lap and several file folders on the table next to him. Nick is flipping through several old books at once.

The man looks up at Nick, a soft expression on his face, and says something. Whatever it is it makes Nick grin and laugh. Nick sets the book in his lap on top of the ones on the table and turns, leaning over to pry the laptop out of the other man’s lap. Once that’s safely on the table, Nick leans into the space between the other’s legs and kisses him.

The other man kisses back, and both of them are smiling.

Juliet knows she shouldn’t have expected him to remain the same. It’s been over a year since he last saw her. Over a year since he gave up. She should have expected him to move on. To find someone else.

He’s happy. She remembers enough to remember what Nick looks like when he’s happy and in love.

Whoever that man is, he makes Nick happy. Happier than she’s ever seen him, even with what she remembers with her swiss cheese memories. Her heart aches.

It should have been her.

It should have been her laying on that couch with him, trading kisses and talking and laughing with him. It isn’t, but it should have been. She gave that up though. She had walked away, and in her absence Nick had built a different life.

She watches them, unable to tear her eyes away. Watches them eventually get up and shut off the lights and head for the stairs hand in hand. She sits there even when the light in the upstairs bedroom that used to be hers and Nick’s turns off. She sits there as the hour gets later and later, until she can’t sit there anymore.

It had been her choice, and now she has to live with it. Maybe one day she’ll be as happy as he looks again.

She turns the key in the ignition, clicks on the headlights, and pulls away from the curb.

She’ll be happy again one day. Just not here, and not with him.


	11. Growing Up (renhardt, au s3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean always expected to die fighting for his life against assassins sent by his father's family; he never expected his life to end up here. Here is better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Growing Up - Run River North
> 
> Okay, so I've been super inactive with the drabble, but I have good reason! I am writing long-fic (32k and counting) which I am hoping to start posting by the end of the month. Drabbles are back seat until that fic is finished. I am excited because who doesn't love a good Zombie Apocalypse!AU? I love one.
> 
> Also, in other news, I just got back with a week and a half visiting my sister's family, and her kids finally (after years of resisting) convinced me to play Minecraft with them. I was right. It's a giant time-suck from which there is no escape. I'm building an epic medieval castle and naturally the village to go with it. Bless creative mode. I have no shame.
> 
> As for this fic: This is AU shortly after Adalind has Diana. Juliette left before her memory came back, and Adalind died getting Diana out of the clutches of the Royals. This is set after everything has settled with Sean and Nick having finally gotten their shit together and making a go of it... And baby makes three.
> 
> Ooh, also, I am basing Diana's behavior on my niece, who is the same age. She goes everywhere on her tippy toes, uses Yep and Nope instead of Yes and No, has a preference for marbles and trouble pronouncing her Rs. She's two and 100% adorable with bonus added dimples.
> 
> Also, picking a verse from this song this time was really hard. I recommend listening as you read.

**Growing Up**

(grimm au s3, renhardt,  [ growing up - run river north ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fz4ZOAsjW6g) )

 

_ “There’s a fight to be won _

_ For the love you find at home. _

_ Work to be done _

_ Before you rest your weary bones…” _

 

Sean always thought that he would die at the hand of some assassin sent by his father or half-brother. Maybe even at the hand of one of the cousins. He never expected this. He’d never had the hope for it beyond dreaming.

But then, Nick is not the usual kind of Grimm.

The King of Portland (and consequently the vast majority of the northwestern seaboard) leans against the door frame and can’t fight the tiny smile on his face. No, Nick is not the usual kind of Grimm. He watches the detective gamely make a doll in a fancy dress dance across the floor as the tiny blonde gathers up fistfuls of marbles to put in their teacups.

If it wasn’t for Nick, Sean is sure that he would, in fact, be quite dead. His body burned and ashes spread to the four winds and forgotten. Diana would be wearing dresses more expensive than the Grimm’s entire wardrobe and being yelled at for spilling anything on them. Diana, who is powerful like her mother, but gentler than either of her parents.

“You gonna help me out here?” Nick demands, though the laugh in his voice betrays him.

“Nope,” Sean tells him, mimicking Diana’s favorite way of saying no.

Nick gives him a mock scowl, and takes the teacup their daughter presses on him. Diana babbles something at him rapidly, her two year old voice and sentence structure making it hard to follow. Nick just smiles at her and reaches out to brush the unruly curls off her forehead.

She pulls away with a scowl, as always unwilling to let her hair be managed, and says: “Ma’bles.”

“Yes, Nick, drink your marbles,” Sean tells him, moving to sit on the sofa.

Nick rolls his eyes at him, hiding the expression from the little girl the calls him Papa and lifts his cup to his closed mouth, tipping it and letting a few of the marbles rolls out and bounce down his torso. Diana laughs at him, but picks up another cup and ambles over to Sean on her tippy toes to give it to him.

Sean takes it, and gamely spills the marbles everywhere.

“Are you having fun, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Yep!” Diana chirps, collecting her marbles.

Sean’s eyes meet Nick’s laughing eyes and he finds that he feels content. He’s king by circumstance, as a direct result of protecting his daughter. He has the greatest Grimm to ever live at his side. A man he loves and who loves him. A little girl that calls him Daddy and blows out the lightbulbs when she has a temper tantrum. His father is across the world; content for the time being to let his bastard son live his life.

And it’s all thanks to Adalind.

He his his snort in his plastic teacup, but gets a knowing look from Nick all the same. The doll is lying forgotten next to him on the carpet, and he’s got his socked feet stuck out so that he can nudge at Sean’s own foot with one of them.

Adalind. Poor, angry, powerful, selfish Adalind. Who hadn’t cared about anyone but herself for most of her life. Who had created the circumstances they now found themselves in. Adalind who had cast the spell that caused Juliette to lose her memory and eventually leave, unable to deal with not knowing and being surrounded by it all. Adalind, who, in her quest to get her powers back, had taken herself into the clutches of the Royal Family and then discovered she was pregnant.

Adalind, who had finally loved someone more than she loved herself.

Adalind, who had died to protect that someone.

Meisner and the resistance had gotten Adalind out of Austria. He had shown up on Sean’s doorstep with a dozen or more assassins on his tail and a days old infant in his arms. Adalind died to buy Meisner the time to get Diana out of Austria. She went out in a blaze of power and flash; fitting for the kind of person she was.

Meisner had done what Adalind instructed: get Diana to Sean.

Sean had taken his daughter into his heart at the same time as he called Nick by instinct. Nick, the Grimm who had come to the Bastard Zauberbiest’s aid with no questions asked. Nick had rallied the troops. Wesen across the entire city whose loyalty lay with the Grimm who had spared them or saved them (or both) had answered the call.

It had been an unconventional army to say the least.

But it had been enough.

It had been enough.

And somewhere in all of it. In fighting off attacks from assassins and even a couple of the cousins. In the midst of somehow rising to power on Portland and being declared King, Sean and Nick had found the time to fall in love.

For Diana and Nick, Sean would do it all over again.

“How many marbles do you need, baby girl?” Nick’s voice breaks through his thoughts; and he looks up in time to see his daughter standing over a pile of marbles too big for even her Papa to pick up all at once.

“A lot,” Diana tells him matter of factly. “More,” she decides, because she needs all of the marbles in the world, obviously.

Sean chuckles, “Well, if someone would stop bringing them home.”

Nick sticks his nose in the air, sniffing, “I have no idea what you mean.”

Sean shakes his head, “Diana, Papa’s being silly.”

Diana looks from Sean to Nick and back again. The expression in her green eyes as she thinks is pure Sean as she turns and jumps after Nick, abandoning her marbles. Nick lets her tackle him to the ground with a laugh before he latches onto her. She squeals with laughter as he tickles her.

Sean sends a glance and a silent thank you to the portrait of the blonde woman on the mantle. Then he turns and joins his family on the rug.


End file.
